


5 Times Sara tried not to remember Nyssa

by Trax28



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Nyssara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 09:12:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12273375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trax28/pseuds/Trax28
Summary: 5 Times Sara tried not to remember Nyssa... and fails miserably (but also happier for it.)





	5 Times Sara tried not to remember Nyssa

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a_windsor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_windsor/gifts).



LOT Scenes set on season 1

 

1st scene:

“I’m not much of a dancer,” she said to Rip. It was total lie of course (She was still new at the whole hero thing, okay?), but she had a feeling that he already knew as he glanced at her with exasperated eyes.

Of course she knew how to dance. Even as Sara Lance she was the more physically active sister, but it was only after becoming Ta’er Al Safer that she learned how to really _dance_ as taught by the ever-composed ---

She shook her head. Now was not the time. She had a mission, and it was important. Savage’s wealth was more enormous than they had imagined, and he had more than enough followers to make it more… challenging still for their motley crew.

Distraction caused by distant memories was one of the fastest way to die.

_A familiar voice. The sound of an arrow released. A distant call of her name followed by crushing loneliness as her mind instantly registered the lethal blow._

Step. Step. Twirl. Her motions were graceful despite her earlier claim, but she already buried those memories deep down. That wasn’t her _(Sara)_ anymore. That Sara had died, and she didn’t know if she would ever come back even with her soul and memories intact.

There were days when she saw her image in the mirror, and she had to stop to stare just to recognize her visage. There was discomfort tingling under her skin. An urge to move. To hunt. To _kill._

Her new captain leaned in as the dance got more lively. There were 4 doors in the vicinity, but they were for the party goers. She instinctively knew that none of them would lead to Carter’s body.

Hands _(Wrong hands)_ that weren’t hardened by years of training gripped her as if trying to ground her being.

“Live the next day,” Rip said intently, even urgently, as if trying to make her remember the importance of life.

But Sara already knew the truth in those words: she was a survivor. _(Even when she sometimes wished she wasn’t.)_ If she closed her eyes, the British tilt in his tone was enough to trigger memories of _her._ Calloused but gentle hands that held her palms (and her heart), gentle words spoken in awe as if Sara was the most precious thing in the world.

 

* * *

 

 

2nd scene “I’m not a fan of feelings.” Sara remembers just how much she fucked up the only relationship that mattered.

She knew Rip was right, her… condition was uniquely suited to help Kendra “out-of-control” Saunders, but how could she, Sara Lance, help someone who lost their literal other half when she voluntary left hers?

Kendra may be some hawk goddess with some serious scratching power, but she was no warrior. Not yet.

That was the mission, make a warrior out of Kendra. There were no other motives. She wasn’t here to comfort her. _(She knew how much it hurt, and it would never go away.)_

“…Now that he’s gone… I can’t control it.” There was pain, sadness, and frustration in her eyes. It was obvious that she hadn’t been sleeping well.

“So thanks for the offer, but I’m not going to risk letting that monster getting out again.” Denial wasn’t going to get you anywhere, Sara knew that, and it was time Kendra (the one of this life) did too. The monster wasn’t going anywhere. It was always there, whispering. Urging. She could feel it everytime she closed her eyes. She didn’t know Chay-era the hawk goddess, but she remembered those eyes that screamed of pain, and the desperation to make the world feel it, too.

Control _(Carter)_ was the only way Kendra would be able to live again. She threw the bo-staff again, and this time, Kendra held it.

She charged. Kendra was obviously unfamiliar with it, but she would learn. Strength was easy, but skill took time.

Once. Twice. Kendra’s swung with power, but it had no direction. She could see the frustration mount as the other woman tried to hit her to no avail.

Sloppy. But that wasn’t what Sara was looking for; she was looking for discipline. It obviously wasn’t there as Kendra’s frustration hit its peak and she discarded her weapon in favour of her admittedly powerful fist.

But powerful or not, it took only a few blows, and the hawk goddess was on the floor. Panting and annoyed, “Are we done here yet?” As if Sara was the one who was being unreasonable. _(Was she ever that spoiled? …Yes, she had been. Once.)_

“If you want to harness your power, you need to control your fear,” Sara dictated to the recovering Kendra.

“Yeah. Well, you’ve been training for half your life to be some cold-blooded assassin so, I really don’t think you understand what it’s like.” The disdain and contempt wasn’t new, but Sara was past the point of caring about anyone’s opinions. She was Sara Lance, and yes, she had a pretty shitty life and she made pretty shitty decisions but it was hers. _(Nevermind that some days, she didn’t even know who Sara Lance was anymore.)_

“Before you can control it,” sharp jabs that she knew Kendra couldn’t dodge were released one after another, “You have to accept it’s a part of you.” _(This was Sara Lance now, for better or for worse.)_ Sara held her collar and looked into the other woman’s eyes. As if willing her to understand the validity of the statement, but only seeing disbelief and resistance.

Sara threw her to wall with a high kick, her own frustration mounting.

“Ease up, will you?” Disbelief colored Kendra’s tone as if she was surprised the so called ‘Cold-blooded Assassin’ was kicking her ass without mercy.

A kick and a throw. “You have to channel your anger.” Cut off the enemy’s supply of oxygen. “Push down your emotions.” A humiliating punch to the face. A high kick to the upper torso. “Focus on your opponent.”

Golden wings and red eyes _painangerpain_ stopped her tirade. “Kendra?” She didn’t know what answer she was looking for, but the comeback of the scratching (with extra-long nails) power wasn’t it. Knowing how painful that had been for the guard that was de-faced, Sara frantically used all of her instinct to dodge, but was sent flying by a kick to the upper torso.

Hitting the ground was a familiar experience, but the indignity of being sent flying, of letting her guard down again made the simmering anger under her skin explode as she felt her body choke the life out of the person who would dare to hurt it.

The calls of her name along with the struggling hands allowed Sara to come back to her senses.

Only to see wide horrified eyes staring back. Black eyes turned brown as reality came crashing down ---

\--- _Sad brown eyes met stubborn blue. Tears that should never be shed pooled in her eyes (something only she, the Beloved, could bring out from the Demon’s heir)_

 

* * *

 

 

3rd scene: Kendra and Sara talk about Kendra learning to embrace her inner hawk goddess and Sara learning to embrace her human side.

 

“…and you need to learn to embrace your human side,” Kendra said, as if there was anything human in the way she tried to kill her earlier. As if she didn’t just tried to strangle her own crewmate. As if she wasn’t a monster.

A monster. That was who _(what)_ she was now.

 “What if that side of me is gone?”

Because Nyssa didn’t want this version of Sara anymore. The Sara Lance that rose outside the Lazarus Pit was a monster that could only kill.

The humanity that attracted the Heir was there no longer, no matter what Laurel said about living in the light. What did Laurel know anyway? Her sister had always been the light. Dinah Laurel Lance, always trying to save the world. That was Laurel in a nutshell… but Sara?

Sara Lance, the little sister. The screw-up. And now she wasn’t even that anymore. Now she was just Sara, the monster who didn’t even had the decency to die properly.

So no, she wasn’t going to train the budding goddess any longer. Rip could find another teacher for all she cares. She was just going to stay right here, sharpening knives for the next time she would kill. It was all she was ever going to be good for anyways.

“Well… Only one way to find out.” Kendra challenged, her body too full of openings for Sara to take her seriously, because really? As if she was going to fall for something so obvious. No, Sara might not be the most mature person around but there was no way—

“I’m training you,” said the baby goddess who was going to get her ass kicked. As if that wasn’t enough “Come on; are you scared?” Now, Rip might need Kendra to kill Savage, but she was pretty sure he didn’t need her in one piece, right?

* * *

 

 

4th scene: When Snart and Sara were locked in the bulkhead and Snart asks Sara what’s it like to die.

“What’s it like, dying?” Snart asked. The cold was starting to sink into their bones even as they huddled for warmth. “I imagine you’ve got a unique perspective.”

There were a thousand possible answers to give, but dying had a way of loosening her tongue.

_A familiar voice, three arrows from a bow she didn’t expect._

_Panicked hands cradling her body, an echoing scream of her name._

“What did you feel?” he asked in a whisper. There was something more than curiosity in his tone, but all Sara could see was that _night._

“I guess, lonely,” she said with a frown, remembering the fall.

_Her fall._

_She spent too much time dealing with bows to not know when a shot was lethal or not._

_And this? This definitely counted as the former._

_The impact of her fall was a distant feeling, as if she had understood that her back had hit the dumpster and her body probably did a flip in the air, but she didn’t remember the pain._

_It was just there._

_She felt the numbness, though.The darkness at the edge of her eyes. The cold air of the night, and the sharp whoosh of the air as she fell._

_And yet, all Sara could think about at that moment was her._

”Like everyone I loved was a million miles away.” She closed her eyes and, for a moment, the cold was gone and she was back to that night.

_Nyssa was going to be so angry.  She hoped she knew she didn’t leave her again (but she kinda will, permanently this time.)_

_She hoped Ollie would tell her that she (really really) wanted to come back, or that Laurel would because sometimes Ollie was an asshole._

_But most of all, as panicked hands cradled her body, she just thought of the face she’d make:_

_Nyssa was going to be so sad, and it was going to be because of her._

  _(Again.)_

* * *

 

 

5th scene: Time stranded in 1958

“So you’re just gonna give up?” Ray asked in an incredulous tone. As if giving up was the worst thing you could possibly do.

But Sara had done worse, and she wasn’t an optimist (anymore). Months had passed, and there was still no sign of the Waverider. It was time to accept reality, and reality wasn’t in some two bedroom apartment with her and Kendra playing monopoly until rescue came from Ray’s slapdash beacon.

The crestfallen look on Ray’s face was enough to soften her demeanour. He hadn’t yet learned the lesson of how just double-edged hope could be.

“Look, you two have each other. Most people in any time period aren’t that lucky.”

Her duffel bag was already prepared; she knew enough of herself to know that this idyllic life wasn’t for her. She knew those two were going to be just fine, though. Ray and Kendra would take care of each other. _(But where was her other?)_

She couldn’t sit here and wait for a rescue that was never going to come. Sara was just so tired. Tired of feeling like she didn’t belong. Tired of feeling like she’d never be whole again. Tired of denying that walking away from that cell in Nanda Parbat in an effort to find herself was an exercise in futility because she just left the only person that mattered.

And while she wasn’t born just yet, Sara knew where to find her, and maybe that would be enough. She’d have to wait decades but Sara didn’t care. She didn’t know if the timeline would fold upon itself and destroy reality as she knew it, but Sara didn’t care.

“I need somewhere I can belong.” _I’m coming, Nyssa._

[End.]

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a lot for A_Windsor for being a wonderful beta throughout the whole writing process!!!


End file.
